Oh Plot Bunny! Files #1: Death Before Dawn
by rainjewel
Summary: Heero is feeling fidgety. There haven't been a mission since he self-destructed and he has idle hands. Enter the braided baka.


**Oh Plot Bunny! Files #1: Death Before Dawn**

By: rainjewel

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing, except for Leatherboy, and I really don't want him. Gundam Wing is owned by bigshots in Japan. I am not a bigshot, and I am not in Japan. Nuff said.

**Author's** **Note**: The original plot bunny. The club scene is inspired by Laekin's wonderful story, "Pretty Hate Machine" and can be found at the Gundam Wing Addiction website. I must say that Laekin is my idol, for she has written the greatest GW fanfiction I have ever read in my life. I'd rather read her stories than watch the actual series. Yep, that's how great she is.

**Timeline**: Follows no timeline. I don't know the Gundam Wing timeline well enough to follow it (that's what happens when you have seen barely half of the series). This story starts after Heero self-detonates at the beginning of the series and Trowa darling fixes him up (long live BangBoy!). After this first sectionconsider the timeline completely irrelevant. 

Pairing: Like you really need to ask.

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Another school, another day, another wacky uniform. For crying out loud, who invented _this _thing? And why pink of all colors?

The uniform was actually a deep rosy-mauve with white trim, but it wasn't the color that bothered him. No, it was rather the way it made him look like an old pre-colony 1950's American sailorexcept that it would have been a Barbie® Ken sailor. Thank god he didn't have to wear the hat.

Relena would have liked it.

"Hey Heero!" yelled a familiar voice. Heero felt slightly surprised. He stopped gawking at his pink form in the mirror and walked over to the door.

He opened it and stuck a gun right between Duo Maxwell's eyes.

"Nice to see you too," said Duo.

"Why are you following me around?" Heero asked.

Duo rolled his eyes, unfazed. "As if I would want to follow you around. You might want to either put that gun away or shoot me inside your room. There's a lot of people in the dorms right now."

Heero narrowed his eyes and dropped the gun. He slammed the door in Duo's face. The American cried out in protest, but Heero ignored him. He sat down at his computer and began fixing his records. Of course he'd taken Home Ec.

His mind drifted to Duo. Why was he here? Heero had simply signed himself up in the closest school after returning to space. The war was somewhat at a standstill—no orders had come in a long time. And he'd been unconscious for a month of it.

He supposed he hadn't had any missions because he was believed dead by most individuals. Heero thought only Trowa, Zechs, and Noin knew of his survival after he'd self-detonated. Well, Dr. J should have known as well.

Heero hadn't seen Quatre or that Chinese guy, Wufei, for a long time. He knew Duo had been staying with the blonde Arabian, so why had he suddenly appeared at his doorstep? A dark thought flitted across his mind. Heero wasn't on a missionhe'd gone to see Dr. J recently, simply to find out why there hadn't been any assignments. But Dr. J had seemed to have disappeared.

Heero was itching for a fight.

"Duo, get your ass in here," he said, turning around in his chair. There were some questions he needed answered.

There wasn't an answer. Heero stood up and opened the door. Duo was nowhere in sight. _Interesting_, he thought. Usually the guy was as stubborn and persistent as a bull when it came to annoying Heero.

He turned back around and punched a few orders into his keyboard. Duo's stats popped up immediately. Classes were over for the day so Heero shed his loathed uniform and changed into his favorite pair of biker shorts and a tank top. He grabbed a gunit was time for visiting.

Heero wanted to catch Duo by surprise because he could get more answers that way. So instead of knocking, Heero simply picked the lock that led to the braided boy's room and swung the door open.

Of course, this was done in complete silence. 

Heero surveyed the room, gun out. Duo wasn't there. He almost turned to leave when he noticed the steam rolling out from under the bathroom door.

_Don't be sloppy, Yuy,_ he thought to himself.

He eased the door open and looked around. Duo's own pink uniform lay on the floor beside his feet. The smell of the boy's juniper shampoo was fresh in the air. He started towards the shower curtain.

Suddenly, just as Heero was reaching for the curtain, two hands grabbed the bar above it. They ripped it down and Duo was revealed brandishing the shower curtain rod. His usually cheerful eyes had lost their playful shimmer and his long hair was undone and sudsy. Heero froze.

"Don't even think aHeero?" Duo said. He blinked. 

The surprise factor was pretty much lost. Heero lowered the gun.

"What are you doing?" Duo asked. He looked at the gun in Heero's hand. "And now what have I done to piss you off."

"We need to talk," Heero said. He turned and walked out of the room. He sat on Duo's bed. The room was a hectic mess. Clothes and books littered the floor along with a few discarded Chinese take-out boxes. Someone had been working. That dark thought skittered across his mind again.

Heero heard the shower turn off and a second later Duo walked out with a white towel wrapped around his hips.

"So what's eatin' ya?" Duo asked. He picked a hairbrush off of the table and sat down beside Heero. The Japanese boy felt the heat radiate off of Duo's body.

He scooted away from Duo and turned to face him. The boy was beginning to brush his long, thick hair. 

"What are you doing here?" Heero asked, his tone authoritative.

Duo snorted. "You know better than to ask a pilot about his mission."

"It's a mission then."

"Maybe."

"There's no other reason for you to be here." 

Duo shrugged and continued brushing his hair. He went painstakingly slow. His hair was his one indulgence and his one vanity; Duo could probably be burned in a fire until he was resembled a puddle of scarred flesh and be fine with it as long as his hair was okay. If he had split ends—then there was going to be some serious hell to pay.

Heero stopped pressing for a while. Something was up if Duo was the one playing the silent role while _he_, Heero Yuy, talked.

Finally Duo said, "If you tell me about your mission I'll tell you about mine. We're probably going after the same thing anyway."

Heero's already sensitive internal analyzer went off with the American's words. With one fluid move he grabbed Duo by the throat and pinned him against the bed. Straddling him, Heero slammed the gun against the braided boy's temple.

"Spy tactics? I expected something more polished from you," Heero said darkly. It was a little bit of an exaggeration, but that's what this situation required.

"Heero, I'm a Gundam pilot. Either you're suffering from temporary amnesia or you've snapped," Duo said, finding difficulty talking with Heero crushing his windpipe. His eyes were wide and dilating. The hairbrush he'd been holding in his hands was now tangled in his hair.

"No I haven't. You're not going to fool me. This place has no strategic positioning. Missions haven't been sent out in months. Usually you're bubbling with info and trying to buddy up with me on the same mission. Why the sudden change, Duo?" Heero asked.

"I follow my orders, just like every Gundam pilot! I would never trade sides and you know that! I don't know what the hell's gotten into you, Heero, but something has seriously screwed up your thinking!" Duo retorted. He seemed to be more insulted than worried by Heero's words. 

"Then prove it. Prove you're still fighting for the colonies. You run and you hide Duo, but you never tell a lie. _What is your mission?_" Heero asked, his voice urgent. He didn't yell; he didn't like to yell.

"I don't have a mission! I just wanted to see you!" Duo snapped. His eyes dropped. "To see how you were doing."

For a split second the Japanese boy's "Perfect Soldier" mask cracked. This surprised Heero. Usually it'd take a hell of a lot more then that to startle him. But this was Duo, the ever-truthful God of Death. It didn't feel right to accuse a fellow pilot of treason. Heero always listened to his emotions. Perhaps he didn't always act on them, but he paid attention.

"Why in the world did you want to see me?" Heero asked.

"Because rumors were circulating about your survival and I was curious," Duo said. "And I kinda like you, though if you don't remove that gun from my head I might have to change my opinion."

"Hn," was all Heero said. He put the gun away and got off Duo, releasing him.

"Now," Duo said, sitting up, "Do you mind telling me about what the hell's going on here?" He began picking at the back of his head, trying to undo the tangled brush.

"Yes," Heero replied.

"Well you can tell me anyway," Duo said. "You owe me."

"I owe you nothing," Heero said.

Duo stared at him arrogantly. "And how many times have I helped your sorry ass?"

"You've shot it too," Heero pointed out.

"Yeah well," Duo still worried his hair, "You stole Scythe's parts _and_ I haven't gotten a letter from you in a long time." He grinned crookedly, but frowned as he concentrated on the brush.

Heero surrendered. "Why haven't there been any missions?"

"Becauseoh shit!" Duo exclaimed. "You made this mess, you undo it!" The American turned with his back to Hero and pointed to the hairbrush.

Heero stared, unsure of himself for the first time in ages. Duo snapped his fingers impatiently.

Tentatively Heero reached out and touched the long silky hair. Gently he began to unravel the mess, strand by strand. It was wet and smelled good.

"You were saying," Heero said. He felt strange and out of character. Usually Duo didn't need a prompt to talk. 

Duo closed his eyes and reveled in Heero's touch. He loved having his hair toyed with. "There haven't been any missions because the colonies could be used as targets again."

"Are you sure that's the only reason?" Heero asked.

"Mhmm," was all Duo said.

"Not because" Heero stopped. How did that get by? He was going to say: _Not because I failed?_

Duo heard the other pilot's comment and understood, but didn't respond. For awhile there was only the sound of his own breathing and Heero's fingers against his hair.

"You didn't fail anyone, Heero," Duo said. But of course Heero had, in one way or another, failed himself; he hadn't lived up to his expectations. Duo, however, didn't consider this a failure in his eyes. Heero could think whatever he wanted, but that didn't mean that _he _had too.

Heero was shocked by Duo's insight. He simply expected Duo to be a rather mindless bundle of energy. Good Gundam pilot or not, the braided boy was like a hyperactive rodent. Apparently there was more to Duo than he had thought.

_But then again,_ Heero thought,_ I'm not one to talk. _

He'd finally managed to work the brush out of Duo's hair. This was as close as he'd ever been to friendly physical touch. He didn't want to give it up.

Gently, so as not to break any hairs, Heero began brushing Duo's hair.

_At least I can brush hair correctly_, he through bitterly,

Duo stiffened at this new sensation. He felt Heero begin to pull away and he tried to relax. Something was extremely wrong; why was Heero acting like this? Duo didn't mind the other pilot's sudden mood swing but it worried him.

"You're wrong," Heero said finally. Duo shivered as he felt the brush's bristles cut through his hair and touch his bare back.

"No I'm not. No one has failed the colonies," he said, consciously amending his previous statement.

"Hn," Heero said. He began braiding the American's thick hair. With that simple action, Duo felt the doorway to friendship swing openor at least crack.

He dropped the subject. "I didn't know you knew how to braid."

"There's a lot of things you don't know," Heero said. He leaned over and took the hair-tie off of Duo's nightstand. He tied off the braidDuo smelled soapy and clean.

Duo ran a hand down the back of his braid. It was tight and nicely done. Everything had been done with precision—imagine that.

"Nice job, buddy," Duo said approvingly. He swiveled around and faced Heero. The boy stared at him with cobalt eyes, his face the perfect impenetrable mask. Duo slipped his own on; a maniac smile danced across his lips.

"So" he began, bouncing off the bed, "I don't have a current mission, and _you_" Duo looked pointedly to the calm Heero, snatching some clothes out of his dresser, "certainly don't have a mission, unless they now send assignments to caskets. Which means that tonight we're going to go out on the town!"

Heero didn't even blink. "We're both on call, dead or alive. No."

"We'll take our communicators with us," Duo said. Unabashedly he dropped his towel and wriggled into black, Trowa-tight jeans.

"Drunk Gundam pilots aren't useful," Heero said.

"Fine. We won't get drunk. I won't even touch any alcohol. We'll just dance until our legs fall off," Duo countered. He hid his smile by pulling a zip-up turtleneck over his face. If Heero didn't want to go, he'd have simply disappeared by now. Having him argue was a major good sign. It also added to the American's worry.

"I can't dance," Heero lied.

Duo snorted. "I doubt that."

He slipped on a leather jacket and began rummaging around in his dresser for something that Heero could wear.

"I'm not going," Heero said. He stood up and started towards the door. Duo jumped out in front of him, spreading his arms out so that it looked as if he was hugging the oak slab.

"Alright. We'll stay and play basketball, one on one," Duo said.

Heero could _feel_ the energy radiating from the braided boy. "You're the one who likes basketball."

"Come on, Heero," Duo pleaded. "Act semi-normal for once. Come down to the mere mortal's level and indulge in life's little pleasures. It'll help your cover, or at least it can't hurt."

Duo had wide, gorgeous violet-blue eyes.

Heero said nothing. Duo waited for a good minute (anything longer and his attention span might have run out), then smiled.

"Good!" Here, you can wear these!" he said, scrambling back to his dresser.

Heero looked on as Duo pulled out a see-through skintight shirt and leather pants. He crossed his arms and leaned against the door. "I wouldn't wear those even if I _were_ dead."

Duo blinked. Was that an attempt at Yuy humor?

"Besides," Heero continued. "I thought we were playing basketball."

"We'll do that afterwards," Duo replied.

"I'm not wearing those clothes," Heero repeated.

Duo grabbed a few guns and concealed them on his person. "I know. But hey, who said I couldn't dream?" He then bounced past Heero and out the door.

_Dream?_ Heero followed the braided pilot out of the dorms and to Duo's hidden motorcycle.

Heero jumped on in front of Duo. The boy looked surprised, but not angry.

"I'm driving," was all Heero said. He almost took off before Duo was able to get on the bike.

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The sound of the music that reverberated through the small club was almost too painful for Heero to bear. A supernova would have been quieter.

"Here," Duo said, popping up beside him. In his callused hand were two earplugs. Heero reached out and took them, noting the fact that the American had a pair in his ears as well. Duo grinned and spun around, disappearing yet again onto the dance floor.

He and Heero had arrived at the club about fifteen minutes ago. After the braided pilot had spent enough time trying to coax Heero out on the dance floor (his actions in vain) he'd given up to retreat to the mass of sweating bodies. Hero had quietly sat down and the bar and ordered a drink.

It was still sitting in front of him, untouched.

Heero looked down at the earplugs in his hand. As a Gundam pilot, his senses were overly, _overly_ sensitive and the music hurt his head worse than any civilian. But as a Gundam pilot, he also didn't want to hamper his senses.

_Yuy,_ he thought to himself,_ who in their right mind would ever think to find you in an ultra-hip dance club? Especially since you've been dead for a month._

But Heero never let his guard down. Reluctantly he slipped the plugs in his ears, remembering the fact that he and Duo were always armed to the teeth. If anyone was going to recognize a Gundam pilot in this mess, it would be the hyper Duo Maxwell anyway.

Heero swung around on the stool to find his companion. After a moment of searching he found the American pilot's telltale braid whipping through the air. Duo had a cute, halfway mischievous grin on his face as he whirled around the floor, gyrating wildly to the music. A girl with bedroom eyes and red hair was dancing provocatively in front of him, trying to match her movements with his. Duo treated her to briefly rocking his body against hers, brushing chest to chest and thigh to thigh, before graciously melting away into the crowd. She'd never see him again.

Heero watched with quiet eyes and critiqued his comrade's dancing abilities. Duo was a better dancer than he was. This fact didn't bother Heero.

As he continued to watch, Heero kept memorizing and saving little bits and pieces in his mental "Duo" file. The violet-eyed boy danced with everyone, but not for long. His energy surpassed any normal human's limitations, and this did not surprise Heero in the slightest. But, he also noticed with an inward grimace, that Duo had an awful smile. To anyone else it appeared to be a beautiful and joyous thing. Heero saw that no matter how happy the other pilot was or how true the grin seemed, his smile was _never_ innocent.

Eventually though, it got him. Duo zinged a smile across the floor when his eyes met Heero's. He slipped away from his current partner and advanced in the Japanese boy's direction. In half a second, he was at Heero's side.

"Come dance," he said. Heero, of course, couldn't hear him very well, but he hadn't learned how to read lips for nothing.

"We've been through this," Heero replied. He'd never felt this edgy in his life. For all of today he had been on his toes, expecting something wrong at every turn andacting like Duo. It unnerved him and he was horrified by how unlike his usual self he was acting. But, for some odd reason, for once the "Perfect Soldier" had no idea on how to fix it.

Duo took a bold step. He placed his hand on Heero's wrist. "I'll show you how. You won't have to dance with anyone else, just me. I'll watch your back, you'll watch mine."

If it had been any other night than this night, Heero would have said no. Duo saw the acceptance through the soldier's mask and smiled beneath his own. It didn't matter to him if this entire night was going to be a big mistakehe had to have Heero beside him tonight. Since the moment he'd laid eyes on him, Duo had felt something explode in his chest that he hadn't felt since Solo. But it was different this time.

_It's for the cover for my cover_, Heero thought to himself. He stood and allowed the braided boy to lead him to the floor.

Duo finally stopped and turned to face him. Heero stared back, revealing nothing. There were people all around him, pushing everybody together so that skin touched skin. The blue-eyed boy felt a little unnerved. So he reacted.

Before Duo could take a step forward (if that was possibleHeero could barely move himself) Heero slipped up in front of him and wrapped an arm around Duo's neck. Their bodies pressed together and he didn't even understand what he was doing.

Duo was shocked beyond reason. For a moment he simply stood there as he felt the Japanese boy's body against him. Something was so very wrong with this sudden possessivenessbut he would deal with it later. He slipped an arm around Heero's back and held him close.

The two boys swayed for sometime to the music. Sometimes they were in time, and sometimes they were not. Heero kept his eyes half-lidded and looked only at the hollow of the American's neck and Duo simply closed his eyes and let his skin do the seeing for itself. Heero felt the need to touch something and hold something. Duo felt the need for Heero.

After a moment, Duo couldn't stay silent. "Someday, you're going to have to talk to me."

"Hn."

"Grunting like an animal doesn't count. I can't understand what you're sayingdid you say you wanted to continue dancing, or would you like fries with that?"

"You never shut up."

"I take serious offense to that remark. I don't think I talk that much at all. Besides, I have to make up for your obvious lack of—ouch!" Duo jumped forward (or tried too) as girl in hot pink suede went thrashing by, elbowing him in-between the shoulder blades. He looked at her retreating back and mouthed, "Bitch."

Heero circled around Duo and went behind him, putting his hands on the American's hips. "I'm going to go back to the bar, now. I want to leave soon." But he still kept dancing.

Duo smiled as he felt Heero meld with his body, the other pilot's dancing skills matching with his ownat least for now. But the moment only lasted for a second and Heero was true to his word. Within a minute or two he was gone, and Duo was in search of another dance partner.

Heero sat back down. His body was dripping with sweat, but it felt cold. He downed his drink, asked for another, and tossed it back as well. A strange adrenaline rush zinged through his body and it made him wonder. After a moment the alcohol began to warm him and he squashed the strangeness he felt inside. 

For 15 minutes, he watched Duo dance. He thought about his previous actions, and the fact that Duo was here with him on his own free accord. Heero felt the need to be rid of the braided boy—friends were a liability in war. Hmm

Heero was about ready to leave by himself when he noticed a change in Duo's eyes. He was dancing with a young man who looked as if he'd been poured into his leather pants and vest. Duo was politely trying to wriggle away from the man, but the leathered creature didn't seem to want to let him go. He kept pressing up against the American's body and weaving his hands in and out of that long, dark braid. Duo hated it when people did that. 

Heero wasn't worried about this though; Duo could take care of anything by himself. Duo seemed to hear Heero's thoughts and gave a look that said, "Can-you-believe-this-guy?" He made no reply but tilted his head in the direction of the door. Duo nodded back and pulled the young man close, whispering hurriedly in his ear. Undoubtedly the American had some witty goodbye.

That's when Heero saw the gun appear in the leathered man's hand.

From some tucked and hidden place a gun was now in the hands of Leatherboy and pressed firmly against Duo's side. The braided boy had a stunned look on his face, but then Heero saw the bright rage flash through his violet eyes. 

In one fluid second, Heero was at Duo's back, unseen by both boys. He couldn't allow the American to do anything too drastic to a civilian, violent idiot or not.

He heard the man speak in Duo's ear. "Don't you dare think you're going to leave me. You're a pretty little heartbreaker aren't you?" whispered the young man. "Well tonight you're going to come home to _my_ bed and—"

"Something wrong, love?" Heero asked, materializing on Duo's right.

Duo, who had been fingering his switchblade and handgun, almost fell over in shock. Heero saw Duo struggle to keep his composure. He knew that if he pulled anything in here the cops _and_ press would be all over him in no time. Then his cover would be blown, and this guy wasn't worth it. He realized what Heero was trying to do—get away peacefully. 

"Love?" asked Leatherboy.

"Are you deaf?" snapped Duo.

The man dug his gun into Duo's side. "Don't say such things."

Shinigami eyes flashed on the dance floor.

"Go ahead, Duo," Heero said. Obviously his presence had no effect on the man. Usually people who realized there were witnesses who could identify them and people who cared for their victims backed off. He could have thrown in a little chivalrous bit, but he knew Duo would never stand for it.

Duo smiled hard. "A little love for you, buddy."

With one hand he grabbed the man's gun and wrenched it away so hard and fast that Leatherboy couldn't even squeeze off a shot. Duo heard a quick snap of wrist bones crunching and wrapped his free hand around the man's neck and cut off his air and blood supply in two seconds flat.

Five minutes later Duo was dumping the young man's unconscious body in a dumpster behind the club. He leaned in over the leathered thing's body and with a quick slam from the heel of his hand, broke his nose.

Duo straightened to face Heero who was leaning against a wall.

"Men like him shouldn't be allowed to live," Duo said. He sounded so unlike the hyperactive boy Heero knew. His face was pale with rage. "He's not an innocent Heero."

Heero looked to the other boy. "He's not our problem. It's 12:00 a.m. now. The garbage truck comes at 4. If he doesn't wake up, he'll be compacted by 5:30-6:00 this morning."

Duo spun around on his heel, his usual upbeat and playful manner gone. Heero took a step back to avoid the swinging braid, then followed Duo to the motorcycle. 

"Let's go," was all he said.

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The ball bounced loudly across the court. Duo slammed past Heero, some of that rarely seen violence glinting through his eyes. In some ways, Heero believed, the braided pilot was perhaps the most violent of them all. Sometimes that happy-go-lucky mask dropped.

Heero took a step back to steady himself, then jumped to block Duo's shot. The American made it anyway. He grabbed the ball. Duo hovered in front of him like a frantic honeybee. 

"It's 2:00 a.m. Duo," Heero stated. He wasn't tired. 

"Ah, you sleepy? Or have you come to the conclusion that you just can't beat me?" Duo asked.

Heero's face remained as impassive as always. He stood still for a moment, then lunged forward, feinting left, right, left, left and finally right after all. Duo followed his every move. Heero charged up to the basket and jumped as high as he could. Duo jumped with him. Heero twisted his body around in the air, dunking the ball behind his head. The ball brushed off Duo's fingers, but not enough to hinder the shot.

The boys landed on their feet facing each other. Sweat poured down Duo's bare chest, his turtleneck and jacket long-discarded. Heero's tank top was a shade darker then usual. Amazingly Duo's braid was still tight and smooth. When Heero did a job he did it well, braiding or otherwise.

"No," said Heero, answering the question. He saw the anger leaving Duo's eyes little by little. Or he was just simply becoming better at dealing with it. "Let it go, Duo."

Duo dribbled the ball between and around his legs with frightening speed. "I'm fine," he said with hollow pleasant tone.

"You're lying," Heero said. He wasn't trying to pressure Duo into a confession; it was simply a statement.

"I never lie. I've just been reminded on why I'm fighting this war," Duo said. "It's nothing. I have a lot of pent-up anger from being cooped up for so long."

"Hn." There was more to that, but Heero let it slide. 

Duo stopped dribbling, looked at the basketball, and then threw it to the far side of the gym.

"I'm going to bed," he said brightly. "See yah tomorrow Heero!"

In a very un-Duoish manner, the braided pilot walked away and melted into the shadows. Duo never walked; he skipped, ran, occasionally skittered, or simply bounced. Heero picked up the ball as he watched him go, and felt a small pang of confusion and sorrow.   


Impulsively he called out to Duo. "Hey, just because I'm kicking your ass doesn't mean you have to leave. Don't be such a little childish shit."

Duo, upon hearing the word "shit" from the mouth of Heero Yuy, slipped out of his remembered anger and peeked into the gym with curiosity written all over his face. Heero was shooting the basketball.

"I'm beating your ass by 8 points. What are you talking about?" 

"4. I just made more shots while you took a breather. You better get back in here before you lose."

Duo charged in and managed to block Heero's shot just in time. He came crashing down with elbows out. 

Duo raised an eyebrow. "You play dirty."

"So do you."

"Like mud. Let the games begin, huh?"

In response Heero reached out and tried to snap the ball away from Duo's grasp. The braided boy barely managed to step back in time. Given the "Perfect Soldier's" lightening-quick speed, this was no easy task.

Duo cocked his head to the side, his grin maniac. "Oh now you've done it buddy. Now you're going to have to play _my_ way. Let's see how good you are at Maxwell basket_brawl_."

And with those words a game broke out where rugby met basketball, soccer met wrestling, and every single warfare tactic broke loose. There were no rules, there were no referees, and Heero doubted that a score was really being kept. The boys simply clashed upon one another, hell-bent on getting the ball into the basket on their own terms. Dribbling wasn't necessary, shooting wasn't necessary, even _moving_ wasn't necessary; it was just an outlet for the boys' anger.

Heero flew through the air, jumping to a height that Duo had only seen Trowa accomplish. Duo jumped up and latched on with his fingers to the net. He pulled himself up and pushed off the rim, now flying at Heero. For a second he realized the ridiculousness of the entire game they were playing, but he saw savagery in Heero's eyes that he knew mirrored his own. Duo kicked a leg out and succeeded in smashing it against the ball. His ankle turned and he was wrenched around. He felt and saw Heero's left arm twist at an angle, undoubtedly breaking it, but then he hit the Japanese boy's chest with his back and the two plummeted. 

Unfortunately for Duo, he couldn't turn around fast enough to catch himself in time and he hit the hard cement with his shoulder. A large crack resounded through the room and Duo felt his shoulder dislocate. He hissed in pain. Heero managed to reach back and brace himself with his right arm, despite the damage Duo had inflicted on him.

Half of Duo's body had hit the ground, but the other half was cushioned by a Heero pillow, which was about as soft as steel. It was enough to knock the wind out of him, and Duo found that all the oxygen in the room was suddenly missing. _How annoying_. Heero was undoubtedly suffering from the same problems, but true to his nature, he wasn't letting on.

The two boys lay there for a few moments. When oxygen was available again, both began panting heavily, gulping for air like a fish out of water. Off in the distance, the ball could be heard rolling around in a dark corner.

After a moment, Duo—surprise, surprise—just couldn't be quiet. "I won."

Heero couldn'twell maybe he _could_believe his ears. For a moment his face brightened into a wonderful smile, an expression that made him seem very young. And then Heero Yuy began to laugh. It was a beautiful sound. Duo closed his eyes and drank it in.

After a moment Heero quieted down and sat up. Duo felt the boy slide out from beneath him and he winced as he felt his shoulder. 

Heero rubbed his left arm. Duo looked at him. 

"Broken?" he asked. Heero continued his inspection and paid no attention to the American. Duo continued, "It'd have to be. I hit that sucker dead on, and everyone knows that when I aim to break it, I _make_ it."

"It's fine," Heero said. Duo had flashbacks of when Heero pushed his broken femur back into place as if it was nothing.

"Look Superman, it's not fine. I know what I did," Duo said. 

"Suit yourself," Heero said. He shifted his weight and kneeled over Duo.

The violet eyes widened. "No! I _hate_ this! Heero, please, show a little mercy! I know I have a gun strapped on me somewhere and you probably have three! Just shoot me and be done with it! I do—AH!"

Heero had ignored Duo's comment and snuck his arms under the American's back. While the American was jabbering, he'd simply flipped Duo over so that the boy was now lying on his chest.

Duo looked at him with puppy eyes. "Please, I'll take _anything_ over thisdeath, torture, taxes, even _Relena_!" 

"You never shut up, do you?" Heero asked. He grabbed Duo's arm and lined it up. The braided boy gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. 

"At least give me a countdown," he said.

Heero ran his eyes over Duo's arm. "Five. Four. Three. Tw—"

"AAAAHHH!!!!"

Heero smiled, he couldn't help himself. With a loud pop! he heard Duo's shoulder snap back into place. Duo jerked as the pain hit him. Heero knew it would eventually ebb away.

"Heero, there are three kinds of people in this world: those who can count and those who can't. I believe you fit in the fourth category," Duo said, his voice breathy. His sense of humor never seemed to leave him.

"Feel better?" Heero asked. Duo rolled on his back and rubbed his shoulder.

"Yeah. I just don't like the popping part," he said. His face had a look of relief on it. Duo sat up and turned towards Heero. "Alright, let's take a look at your unbroken bone."

Heero held out his left arm. There was a large footprint from Duo's boot on the forearm. The violet-eyed boy reached out and gently grasped Heero's arm. He ran his fingers down it, probing for any breaks, cracks, or even shattered bits. There was nothing.

"You only bruised the bone," Heero said.

Duo's mouth was slack and his eyes were huge. "H-how?"

"I have strong bones," Heero said. He watched Duo rub his fingers around the battered skin.

"But that one doctor said you've broken every bone in your body," Duo said. 

"Exactly."

Duo looked at him in bewilderment. "What?"

"When a bone heals it produces scar tissue which in turn makes the bone stronger."

"Oh." Duo looked away and absently rubbed his shoulder. Heero watched him, waiting. The American leapt to his feet and extended a hand down to him. "Shall we go for a raid on ice packs?"

Heero stood without grabbing Duo's hand. "No. I need sleep, not ice."

"Yep, and I'm the Queen of Sheba. We don't have school tomorrow so you can sleep in. Let's go," Duo said. He flashed a crooked smile and bounced over to his shirt and jacket. Heero saw his jaw tense as he shrugged into his jacket. So his shoulder still hurt him.

The two boys went to the ice room and grabbed a few packs apiece. Duo chattered about something that Heero didn't pay attention too. His main focus was getting to his room and forgetting this night had ever happened. As the two left the ice room and began the long quest to find their dorm rooms, Duo fell strangely silent. Heero thought nothing of it.

Almost.

They came to Duo's room first. The braided boy slid his keycard in and then put his hand on the doorknob. He almost had stepped through it when he suddenly turned back around to Heero. He threw the ice packs on the ground in frustration.

"How many times?" he asked suddenly. Heero stared at him. "Howhow many times did you break your own bones?"

"Never," Heero said cryptically. Duo picked up on it.

"Who did it?"

Heero stared silently. Duo's eyes burned into his, the pilot giving him a Death Glare that was so close to his own. Finally he toed the line. "Three."

The frightening thing about Duo was that his masks, the masks that all Gundam pilots possessed, were all emotionally based. If he wanted you to see anger, you saw anger. If he chose for you to see innocence, most people saw a saint. And his most charming and frequent mask was his one of utter hyper joy. He always seemed so utterly human

Until those masks fell. Until Shinigami came forth, or even worse, the real Duo that slept under all those falsified layers. 

As Heero uttered the number, Duo's face fell. It was quick and ephemeral in duration, but the image was locked in Heero's mind forever. Suddenly the American's violet eyes burned with a hatred so pure that he looked the very role of the Death God, but then his face suddenly dropped with a sadness Heero thought only he could feel.

Instead of saying anything, Duo reached out and took Heero's arm. He looked at it with a sigh, his face pulling itself together without him even knowing it. "Only clean breaks heal perfectly and increase the strength of the bone effectively," he whispered.

Heero looked at the bowed brown head in front of him. "Not perfectly," he admitted. "If the breaks occur when the subject is young and the bones aren't completely grown and developed, it will stunt the person's growth."

"And make them a perfectly-sized package. The strength of a 6'4", 250 lb. man inside a much smaller body. A body—"

"That fits perfectly in the smallest spaces and is rarely seen. The body of a boy that no one ever takes seriously, unless—"

"They look into his eyes." 

Heero looked into Duo's eyes. They were wet and dark. His own were dry as always. His heart, however, wept. He did not want to be reminded of his long-forgotten childhood. Not on the anniversary of Odin's death. He looked away and fought to keep his mask.

Duo tried to keep his own emotions in check.

"Oh Heero," he whispered. It was something he usually said in an annoyed tone of voice, but this time it was entirely different. Gently he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Heero's shoulders, drawing the boy in for a soft hug.

"Duo?" Heero started, dropping his ice pack. 

Duo turned his head into the pilot's ear. "I am not sorry for what I do, I'm only sorry for what I _could_ do," he murmured.

"And what is that?" Heero asked, mildly stunned into submission.

"Make you hate me," Duo said. Before the Perfect Soldier could react, Duo slipped his arms up, squeezing Heero's shoulders tightly and one of his hands crept up to grab a fistful of thick chocolate hair. Feeling electric and incredibly bold, Duo brought his head back and gently, if firmly, kissed Heero fully on the mouth.

As usual, there wasn't a reaction from the Japanese boy. The only response he got was Heero's eyes slipping shut like he was going to sleep. After a moment Duo pulled away and took a step back, his hands plunging into his pockets. He looked to the ground and felt very uncharacteristically shy. His hand skittered out of one his pockets and began fiddling with the fastener at the end of his long braid—the braid that Heero had done.

Minutes passed. For once Duo found himself able to stand incredibly still.

_I wasn't going to do that, was I_? Duo's mind whirled as the seconds crawled on. He didn't dare look up. _No, I definitely had never planned on thatbut he had just looked so gorgeous and tragic. And his boneshow much pain is he hiding? I don't think he'll ever let on. I don't think he's ever going to talk to me again, not that he talked very much in the first place but now it'll be really bad. I am such an idiot. He was right when he called me "baka" all those timesbut he didn't call me that tonight. That doesn't mean that he didn't—_

"Duo," said Heero's voice. The American felt the other boy's heavy hand upon his shoulder and it interrupted his inner ramblings. Duo looked up and met Heero's cobalt eyes. "You're thinking too loudly."

Duo gulped. "UhI'll," he stuttered. "I'll justgo into my room nowyeah."

His hand found the doorknob behind him and he turned it, opening his room up slightly. As he stepped through the doorway Heero reached out and caught the end of his braid that was slung over his shoulder. Abruptly his feet stopped and Duo struggled to keep his balance between the unsteady door and his braid.

"You run and hide but you never tell a lie," Heero said. 

"That's me," he said with a weak smile. His heart felt all twisty. He hated and liked the feeling all at the same time.

Heero's face didn't change, but he let go of Duo's braid. As the hair fell from his fingers, he pushed the American pilot backwards, causing Duo to lose his balance. He fell past the door into his room. Heero took a step and caught Duo right before he hit the ground and in one fluid movement, swung the door shut.

Duo reached out and grabbed Heero's shoulder out of instinct. For a second his mask dropped and Heero saw the vulnerability, the love, and the_fear_? that was in the American's violet eyes. Duo quickly re-masked his face before Heero could see other things that he'd rather not discuss right now. His shoulder ached, but he ignored it.

"Duo, don't hide from me," Heero said. He didn't move, as if waiting for an answer.

Duo was stunned, but managed to let out a shaky, "O-okay, Heero."

Heero stood up, taking Duo with him. He looked at the braided pilot like the boy was an interesting animal he'd never seen before. Duo felt his heart twist all that much more. If something—good or bad—didn't happen soon, he might just die from anxiety here and now.

Heero's eyes softened, but so softly that if Duo had blinked he might have missed it. He let go of Duo with one arm and reached out to touch the American's face. His callused finger slid lightly over the perfectly shaped cheekbone and Duo held his breath.

"Youyou really are beautiful," Heero said, his voice low and soft. He looked like he was calculating a complex maneuver in his mind. Duo brought his hand up to grasp Heero's when suddenly a loud beeping sound reverberated from around the room.

Heero froze. Duo saw a door slam shut in the other boy's eyes and silently cursed. Without warning, the Japanese pilot dropped his hand and took a step back. Duo straightened himself up and watched Heero answer his communicator. 

"What?" Heero snapped into the device. Duo strained a little to hear what was said on the other end of the line, but even _his_ hearing wasn't that great. He walked to the door and reached out to collect the now melted ice packs. When he walked back into his room he chucked them out the window. He watched them fall. 

Heero's communicator snapped shut. Duo didn't move.

"A mission?" he asked. He felt Heero walk behind him. The boy didn't come right up next to him; there was at least a foot between Heero's body and his own.

"Yes," Heero said. It was his soldier voice. 

"Have fun," Duo replied. His voice was even and his face was smooth. He turned around looked at Heero. "But don't do a sweep and leave me without any playthings."

"I can leave at noon at the latest," he said, more to himself than Duo. The braided boy smiled and hid his pain. Obviously the past minutes had been just that—past. Gundam pilots didn't fight for the past, merely the future.

"That's in seven and a half hours," the American said. Heero nodded and turned on his heel and began walking away. Duo watched him with a sad, but not surprised heart. It was the same as all those times on the street—you found someone and the minute you began caring and had a little hope, down your world came.

Heero stopped by the bed, kicked off his shoes and laid down on the covers.

"What are you doing?" Duo asked softly.

"Taking a nap," Heero replied, his arm slung over his head.

Duo blinked. "I don't understand you at all."

"Hn."

"That's my bed," Duo said. He felt angry at Heero's reaction. The guy could at least have the decency to leave him alone if he didn't really care about him.

""

"Look Heero, I understand that you're tired. But if you think that you're going to sleep wherever you want like some king you have another thing coming. Especially after you—"

"Duo."

"What?"

Heero raised his arm and looked at Duo. "You braided baka, shut up and come here."

Duo snorted. "Oh, so now you—"

"Duo!" 

Unaccustomed to hearing Heero actually yell at him, Duo shut up. Heero motioned for him to come to the bed with his hand. He walked over and stared down at the blue-eyed pilot.

"I'm here," he said, arms crossed. Heero reached up and grabbed his braid and pulled his head down.

"I think you should get some sleep," said Heero. 

Duo tried to remember how to breathe. His heart thumped wildly in his chest and it almost felt like pain. He'd never been one to hold onto his emotions that well. Immediately he kicked his shoes off and lied down on the mattress. He kept a respectful distance from Heero, save for his braid.

"What are you thinking?" Duo asked. "I want to know."

"Duo, go to sleep," Heero said. Duo felt the Japanese pilot's arm sneak around his waist and pull him close. His head rested against Heero's shoulder.

Duo closed his eyes obediently, catching Heero's unspoken words.

_What am I thinking? I don't know._

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**rainjewel**: Mwahahahahaha!!

**Duo**: That sucked!

**Heero**: I can dance?

**rainjewel**: *grins* All that and more, just wait.

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End file.
